


Avalanche, You Can

by jehane18



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehane18/pseuds/jehane18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened in Manila, and after. Set at and after the Concert of Epic, 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zero Gravity, Hero

**Author's Note:**

> vindicatedtruth wanted to see some really fluffy fic, and I think this is the fluffiest thing I have ever written. Also one of the very first things I ever wrote, which might explain the fluff. Hope the Manila memories are enjoyable.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's zero gravity/And I'm not going to come down_

They've had the best time in the Philippines, but it's been a long haul - Cook has had what seems like an endless string of interviews and appearances - although the fans have been amazing and warm and consummately polite; even those who'd stalked his band members around the hotel had done so so sweetly and courteously that even Neal had nothing but the nicest things to say about them.  
  
And all the activity in these past few days has finally come down to this single place, this one-night-only performance on the massive stage in the Mall of Asia, in front of 43,000 people, and where he stands in the wings of the stage, they're making so much noise he can hardly hear himself think -- making noise for David Archuleta, whose set was going full steam ahead like a rocket or a shooting star, to mix a couple of metaphors, and who was in such phenomenal voice as had to be heard to be believed.  
  
Cook doesn’t believe how much sheer fun he's had hanging out with Archuleta again this past week - he hadn't spent much time with Archie since Idol last year and then the US tour, and it has been beyond great. The promoters made no sense at all; for some reason they were fine with the Davids doing joint press and interviews for Manila, but they weren't supposed to sing duets at the concert; it was insane. His management seemed to agree, though, and he supposes Archie's people did, too, or maybe it was their management's idea, whatever, but it was not his and if he had been less fuzzy from jet-lag when he'd gotten off the airplane he would have tried to speak to the promoters' reps to give them a piece of his mind.  
  
Well, jet-lagged, and somewhat too busy catching up with Archuleta to do much else, anyway. Cook had been right there when Archie had blossomed from the wide-eyed boy wonder to the confident young man that had stood shoulder to shoulder with him on that Idol final stage, Archie had been the first person he'd touched after Ryan had called his name and his life had changed inextricably and forever. Archie would always be part of him, thanks to those shared weeks and the months on tour beyond, and it was beyond amazing to see the little changes and the big ones --  
  
_\--  "You've grown!" Cook had said, and opened his arms, and Archie had dropped his bag and stepped into his embrace._  
  
_"You've ... not gotten thinner?" Archie responded, grimacing when Cook hugged him fiercely (but kind of hugging back)._  
  
_"You're just being nice," Cook had snorted, while their reps had all totally snickered, the assholes, and Archie had made a face and said, “But it’s true!” --_  
  
…And Archie hadn’t lost his adorable habit of rambling during interviews either, but he was substantially more assured now, and really quite articulate, and had given this _awesome_ radio interview where someone had asked him to do a David Cook impression, and he had actually sung two lines of **_Light On_** , and Cook had almost fallen over, that’s how good Archie had sounded, singing Cook’s song about love and yearning and holding out a light so that a lover could find his way home in the darkness.  
  
And tonight, on this stage, Cook can’t even believe his eyes, because apparently, _this_ is David Archuleta: this amazing, assured young man who had bounded straight into his set, and swaggered as if he owned the stage, and the audience is going crazy, and there's a sheer wall of sound that batters them all, and Archie’s lush, effortless vocals soar above the noise and go crashing into the night sky, and the stars, and the luster of a million flashlights and mobile phones recording this incredible performance.  
  
Archie’s on fire tonight, and it's a real eye-opener because Cook has never seen him like this; lean body working a ridiculously alluring combination of blue shirt, skinny black tie and tight black trousers, he’s a blur of constant motion, rivulets of sweat running off him, the sheer, gorgeous sound of his voice pouring out of him like relentless waves of light. He’s holding his hand out to the screaming girls in the front row, pointing to the ones in the back, and some of them are crying and some need to be held up by their friends, and damn if Cook isn’t completely floored by how suddenly, preposterously hot the kid is, and it's not just the muggy heat in this country so many miles from home.  
  
And he doesn't even want to think about how amazing and light he’s felt this entire week, as if Archie had turned all his lows to highs; how natural it was, to have Archie by his side again, after such a long time away.  
  
So Archie finishes "Touch My Hand" and then "My Hands", and Cook belatedly realises he's been dancing like a complete idiot and hopes nobody’s managed to get video of him making an ass of himself because Cook clearly can't dance to save his life, and Archie says, "I'd, um, like to do this song that’s not on my album, but we might make it our next single, you know, if you guys like it."  
  
The Archuleta band start to play this pulsing riff, and Archie continues, "So, this song, it's about how things are when you're with someone you love."  
  
And then, he starts to sing, and just like that, Cook feels the ground shift under his feet.  
  
" _Tell me what you did to me,_  
_Just there beneath my feet_.  
_Didn't even notice we were miles above the ground_.  
_I'm not afraid of heights_ ,  
_We crashed into the sky,_  
_Didn't know that I could feel the way that I do now_.  
_I'm not asking for an explanation,_  
_All I know is that you take me away,_  
_And you show me how to fly."_  
  
Cook's heard this song before, obviously; Archie’s done it in concerts before and he thinks Archie sent it to him earlier this year in an iTunes download. But he's never heard Archie sing it before like this, suddenly all grown-up and yearning, and like someone who had been disillusioned in love, but who has suddenly discovered what it was like to be totally and utterly swept off his feet, and to be taught to fly.  
  
And then, rather than singing and pointing into the crowd, Archie is looking sideways, and Cook could have sworn he's singing to him, as intimately as if he'd been whispering anything at all, as if there had just been the two of them on that stage:  
  
_"Nothing brings me down,_  
_When you're around_.  
_The world just disappears when you're here,_  
_It's zero gravity."_  
  
Cook can't look away from Archie's mouth, and feels himself blushing like a teenager (and it’s actually kind of ridiculous, as he doesn't think he'd ever done much blushing even as a teenager, and, apropos of nothing, he wonders whether this is how Archie's young teenage fanbase, who is so adorably screaming and crying now, feels around him all the time).  
  
He doesn't understand what it is about Archuleta tonight, of all nights; how it is that he improbably feels light on his feet, as if he's left the ground with Archie and they're flying above the crowd and this stage and this night, the edges of reality fading away.  
  
Cook's throat is dry, and it's not because of the humidity. He feels giddy and it's not due to fatigue. It's pure Archuleta, and he's becoming lightheaded, inhaling David's atmosphere. There are suddenly no shades of grey, on this wide stage: there's something barrelling towards him like a bullet, and everything is in sharp focus, all white and black, and Archie is singing, _"Not gonna analyze and try to fight it, Don't even care if it makes no sense at all, Cause with you I can fly."_  
  
Something's coming. Hard and fast, and it's the only way Cook knows how to fall.  
  
*  
  
David drinks a bottle of water and does his vocal exercises and cooling-down routine, but everywhere backstage is shaking with the sound of Cook's set, and after a while he wanders back to the wings of the stage to watch.  
  
Cook is incredible as always, with his voice and velvet growl,  bantering with the crowd in a black T and jeans, and his somewhat scary but cool band members are in terrific form, and between them they make it so easy for Archie to just drift away on the music they played: from "The World I Know" (which David knows from Idol, of course), then "Mr Sensitive", and then "Life on the Moon" (which he's always thought was kind of about him and Cook, but he has obviously never said this to Cook, because it would be sort of, he doesn’t know, like _“Hey, Cook,  isn’t this song about us?_ ”, how rude, right?).  
  
Anyway, he can't imagine being here without Cook, of course; it was so beyond amazing to be with him here in Manila, and now to be on this stage watching him, and all of them, doing their thing, was just so awesome, and the audience tonight was completely in tune with everyone, and making just the most noise imaginable, oh my gosh!  
  
Archie admires Cook's easy, charming way with the crowd, the backward slant of him, rocking out with his white guitar at first, then pressing his body up against the mic stand in his best lady-killing stance, oh my gosh; he'd forgotten how tight Cook liked to wear his jeans, but clearly Cook's fans had not forgotten, ha ha.  
  
"So," says Cook, eventually, after totally killing everyone with "Always Be My Baby", "I guess you guys enjoyed Archie's set just now; and, you know, I also thought it was just phenomenal."  
  
David blushes, and the crowd screams his name, obligingly: he thinks he hears a particularly noisy bunch of girls on the left of the front row squeal that they want to marry him; he hopes Cook doesn't think his fans are embarrassing (although, come to think of it, Cook's fans sometimes shriek even more embarrassing things about Cook). Cook laughs at the _"Marry me, Archie!"_ , tilts his head to look over at Archie where he's standing at the side of the stage, and gives him his trademark David Cook smirk.  
  
"And so I got to thinking, Archie and I, we've spent so much time together on Idol, it stands to reason that some of our songs mirror each other," Cook shrugs, grinning. "It's never struck me until tonight, but I actually  _also_ have a song about learning to fly."  
  
Everyone starts shrieking their faces off, of course, and Cook's band throws down, guitars screaming, drums going crazy, and Cook's powerful, gravelly vocals rise up out of the noise:  
  
_"As the sun goes down in front of me_  
_It reminds of me of where I want to be_  
_With you and you alone..."_  
  
And it's kind of weird, but Cook keeps looking sidelong at _him_ ; although Cook's body is facing the audience, his head is cocked to one side and his dark gaze is kind of fixed on Arch's, and rather than Cook's eyes telling him, " _Hey, see how my song is totally like your song_!", they seem to actually be saying this, directly to him:  
  
_"Hold me in like you were made for me_  
_I’m losing faith in gravity_  
_I just need to let you know_  
_And I just need to let you know..."_  
  
And then Cook swings back around and the band launch full throttle into the chorus, and Neal steps up to the mic and his evocative voice blends with Cook's:  
   
_"I’m not going to come down_  
_Down off of these clouds_  
_All these heroes come and go_  
_But you’re still standing_ "  
  
Archie finds himself drawn to the edge of Neal and Cook's shared spotlight. There is the weirdest sensation in his stomach, as if his feet have suddenly, actually, left the ground. Cook is obviously looking at Neal when he sings, because, um, _duet_ , but when Neal takes a step back after the chorus, and Cook heads into the next verse, he sings, _"I know you’ll make it right/You’re all I need tonight"_ , and his face scrunches up when he hits that glory note on the end of that line, and he inclines his head towards where Archie's standing, and, yes, the dizzying, airy feeling in Archie's stomach is definitely nothing he's ever felt before.  
  
Then Cook opens his arms wide, and his voice opens up as well, and he's flying so high: _"I believe that you can save me, And you’ll never let me fall..."_  
  
And he opens his eyes after the high note and looks over at Archie, the merest glance, but just like that, Archuleta feels like he belongs up in the clouds with Cook, and he'll never get down again.  
  
*  
  
Cook is sweating profusely, his heart is pounding, and there's that fresh grief, that ache, that he feels like a physical pain throughout his body, interlacing dry and bittersweet with the adrenaline and the earth-shaking connection with the audience, and he can still almost see the single small kiss he'd sent up to the heavens, glowing in the night sky. But he's got it together, he's holding himself together, and his bandmates are holding him up with the music that's pouring out of their instruments and filling the stage with love.  
  
Finally, they reach the anthemic chant at the end, and that's the cue for that one brief duet that he was permitted with Arch, and he lifts his hand and hollers, "Give it up for David Archuleta! He's my best friend!"  
  
And Archie takes to the stage in two bounds, to stand by his side, and Cook can feel his friend's body waving to the singing chant, and hear Archie's lush, gorgeous voice twining with his and then lifting in runs above the melody, above the wall of sound.  
  
And then Cook stops singing and turns the mic to the crowd, and, oh God, 40,000 people are _singing his song_ at the top of their lungs, and Cook's heart is filled to brimming with sudden, blinding light, and his throat closes, and he's sinking to his knees in the overwhelming rush, too full of this moment for words.  
  
Finally, he gathers himself, wipes his eyes with his hands, and climbs to his feet. Archie's beside him, his smile like a beacon under the stage lights, and Cook catches his friend in his arms as if he means for them both to take flight, as if he never means to let Archie go, although, of course, eventually he does.  
  
The crowd is screaming so loudly now the entire stage feels like it's going to come apart, and all Cook's body is filled with the sound, from his flesh down to his very bones; he's never felt this alive, this connected to all the ecstasy and aching bittersweet pain and the love of tens of thousands of people. Finally, they're leaving the stage, high on adrenaline, caught up in a relentless wave of pure noise and that sheer, pulsing love; he hooks an arm around Archie's shoulders as he walks, Arch's bright, excited chatter in his ear, and with his friend in his arms he feels as if he's walking on air.

Which is why, when they take a sudden wrong turn together backstage on the way to their dressing rooms, and blunder into a dark corner where there is a lot of large equipment and not a lot of light, and Archie bumps into him, snickering at their shared directional stupidity, and turns his smiling face up to Cook's, there's nothing in the world to be done except to draw Arch closer and kiss him on the mouth, as sweetly and as naturally as breathing.  
  
And they stand there beyond the stage lights, and Arch is kissing him back, so gently, and it's as if they've achieved final lift-off, the dark and the night wind rushing around them, buffeting them and catching in their hair and clothes, and Cook doesn't ever want to come down from this moment, where it seems they've managed at long last to defy the laws of gravity.  
  
Eventually, though, the sounds around them get louder: equipment being moved moved from the stage, of the techs and roadies and the guys from both their bands clomping around backstage somewhere, and Cook and Archie step away from this first kiss.  
  
Archie is smiling again, brightly enough to light their way home; he's so calm and beautiful that Cook can hardly look at him. "Um, what was that for?" he murmurs, and Cook, whose brain has only just moved into the realm of  _what the fuck are we doing?_ , just can't stop laughing.  
  
"Archuleta, you're going to be the death of me." He strokes the back of Archie's neck, his shoulders, breathes in the pure, heady smell of his friend's skin. "This, tonight, was all just so incredible, I can't even begin to say. And you, you're my hero, you know? Thank you so much for being here."  
  
"Cook, that..." Archie struggles for the words, and finally settles on, "You're my hero, too. You always have been."  
  
And for once Cook stays silent, and holds this moment to his heart, and as the world begins to turn again and to draw them back into its inexorable gravitational pull (Archie's manager and Andy find them almost at the same time and everyone is suddenly talking at once, "There you guys are, they're waiting for you in the press room!" and " _Archie, geez, we thought you must've walked him into a wall_!").  
   
And though he allows them to shepherd Arch and him back out to the lights and the flashing cameras and the bright shiny interviewers' faces, he feels as though his feet never quite touch the ground.  
  



	2. Zero Gravity, Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Show me that good things come to those who wait/I feel alive beside you and all at once I am whole again_

After he gets home from the Philippines, Cook is amazed to find himself in love again. 

It’s ridiculous (and exhilarating, life-affirming, and utterly exhausting) – which is why it takes him so long to figure out why exactly it was that there was nothing but white noise inside his head, and why he feels he's inside a huge white isolating bubble, disconnected from the world, which started when he said goodbye to Archie at the airport and followed him in the plane home to the States, muffling him in bizarre insulation.

At first Cook thinks it’s jet-lag or some side effect from the unfertilized seafowl embryo which he’d eaten while he was in Manila, but the strange dissociation continues even after he’s rested and gone for a thorough medical. When he performs on the Idol 2009 finale, he feels like he’s inside a cocoon.

To combat this, he picks up the pace on the Declaration Tour and charges headlong at the performances, winding himself up into a frenzy, desperate to reconnect with himself and his audiences again. When that doesn't work, he starts to drink a little before the performances, and when _that_ doesn’t work, he starts to drink a lot, and his bandmates are beginning to worry, because this isn’t the David Cook they know.

Then one night he’s flinging himself like a wild man across the stage during the chorus of "Bar-ba-Sol", and trips over a wire near Neal’s mic stand or his own feet, he’s not sure which, and suddenly he’s falling and can’t stop himself and is about to fly headlong off the stage into the wide black void beyond. 

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” says Neal (fortuitously, not into the mic), catching him before he pitches offstage completely and then hefts him back onto his feet without even missing a beat, and somehow Cook manages to finish the song, even though he’s shaking like a leaf and really wants to lie down. 

Later, in the bar after the show, there are jokes a-plenty about him being so in love with Neal that he can’t resist pouncing on him (or on Andy, except with really bad aim), but the guys are definitely worried about him, he can see it in their eyes, and it would really start to freak him out if he didn’t feel so disconnected from the world around him.

And sitting in the bar, surrounded by his bandmates, his best friends who've seen him through the lows and all the crazy highs, all he can think of is that molasses-slow moment when he was falling into the eternal dark, falling and then crashing down and shattering into a million pieces like he has some insane death wish.

Fuck this, he's afraid he's really falling apart, and he doesn't know why. 

So of course he gets totally high again, and then later he's alone in his hotel room, staggering a little and trying to get into bed without falling over his feet for the second time, and his cellphone rings.   
  
_“…Take me where I’ve never been, help me on my feet again...”_.

 _Archuleta_

“Cook, are you okay?”

He hasn’t really spoken to Archie since Manila, and suddenly it feels like it was just yesterday: when he was feeling charged up and vital, plugged into the world and the hyper-insanity that was the joint concert and the promos before it, a wide sea which he'd navigated with Archie a constant by his side. 

Remembers, too, as if it were yesterday, the single kiss they'd shared, in the darkness beyond the stage lights, when they were still pumped up from the adrenaline: chaste and almost brotherly, and full of love.

“Hey,” he says, surprised at how much better he suddenly feels, “how are you? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Archie’s soft voice sounds like it’s coming from a great distance away, although he’s just a couple of states over, working on his new record. “There’s this thing on the internet that says you collapsed at your concert tonight.”

“Huh. How about that,” Cook says, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand a little awkwardly, because the tripping thing was completely due to him being a jackass, and he's not sure he wants to tell Archie how bizarre and out of it he's been feeling lately, and he's certainly not telling Archie about the drinking or the other stuff. “No, I’m good. Just fell over my own feet. Luckily Neal was there to catch me, or I would've face-planted in the front row.”

Archie says, "So what's wrong?" and, swear to God, it's like the kid has telepathy or something, and Cook finds himself trying to explain after all.

"I'm not sure, man. I've been so out of it since Manila. It's like my connection to the universe is broken or something."

Archie is silent on the phone, and Cook continues, "I mean, we had such an awesome time out there. Everything just came together, you know? So I guess I miss that. For some reason, I don't have that now."

_It's because I don't have_ you _, now,_ leaps unbidden to Cook's mind, and stays there.

"Yeah, Manila was great," says Archie. "Remember the mangoes? And that weird game show thing? And the crazy TV lady who asked us to smell her?" 

Of course Cook remembers, these and other things, big and small – Archie capping his comments at interviews, and singing "Light On" on national radio in his best David Cook impersonation; the way Archie's body, though taller and sturdier, still fit under his arm the same, perfect, way as it always had. The way he'd sung "Zero Gravity" at the concert, and then come on stage during "A Daily AntheM" and had made Cook feel as if he could walk on air. The way Archie had looked at him, steadily, from under those ridiculously long lashes, as he'd always looked at him, as if there was nobody else in the entire world, except for Cook. 

The way Archie might be looking now, only a state or two away, his mouth against the speakerpiece of his cellphone, lying in bed and talking to him.

"I remember that one interview where that lady asked us if we had had time to date, and you went on and on even when you had no idea what to say!" Cook says, quickly, trying to blink away the image of Archie’s mouth.

Archie laughs. "I was waiting for you to save me!"

“When you were doing so well on your own? Like that’d happen.”

Archie is silent for a beat, and then, hesitantly, “You need to stop doing things on stage like that, Cook. You need to, like, take better care of yourself, you know?” And, God, that’s just what Cook has needed to hear for weeks, and Archie’s voice is so full of concern, that it completely floors Cook. 

_Jesus fuck_ , Cook thinks, echoing Neal in his head, while frantically rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, because he completely and utterly does _not_ want Archie to think that he’s so messed up he’s actually crying now.  
  
Of course, because it’s Archuleta, it wouldn’t do to cover the tears with swearing, and instead, he says into the silence, _“Hey, I've missed you_ ,” and, he totally meant to do that, as well.

“I only texted you a zillion times!”

“You know I can’t keep up with you,” says Cook, and, because his mouth is clearly moving faster than his brain tonight, “Why don’t you come out and see me? We can’t wait until we’re halfway around the world before we hang out next, the carbon credits will kill us. Come see me, we’re playing Ohio for the next couple of days. We’ll have lunch; I’ll let you try to feed me mangoes again, and then, if you don’t have to head back, you can watch us play.”

The line goes suddenly silent for a while, except for the sound of Archie breathing, and Cook finds himself holding his breath as well.

“C’mon, David,” he says, finally, and Archie lets out a breath and says, “ _Okay_.”

“Tomorrow?” Cook asks, and he means it to come out light, but for some reason, it doesn’t. At all, and God, Cook isn’t sure he isn’t going to pass out from the lack of oxygen.

“Sure,” says Archie, and there’s an inrush of breath, and a jolt of _something_ runs down Cook’s spine.

After he hangs up, Cook lies on his bed and looks up at the ceiling, and damn if he doesn’t feel stone cold sober, and as if he’s come alive again, and the huge white isolating dissociation has all just come crashing down.

And realizes, somewhat belatedly, that he's fallen hopelessly and headlong in love with David Archuleta.  



	3. Tell Me I Won’t Be Alone

Archie’s surprised when he gets off the plane and Cook’s there by himself waiting for him in the arrivals hall, no handlers or anything, wearing these aviator shades, jeans and a slightly ratty grey hoodie, which Cook had previously explained was his “incognito” look.

Of course, Arch would have brought his own people, except that his dad was out of town, and his manager was kind of not speaking to him because he’d insisted that morning on dropping everything for a couple of days to go see Cook play in Ohio. 

He had Robin, the one security guy which 19E had told him he needed to travel with, but apart from him and that one very sweet and motherly stewardess in first class, nobody had approached or stopped him on the plane or in the airport corridors, and he was feeling pretty good about the incognito travelling thing, himself, and could kind of pretend that Robin was just a friend that happened to carry his bag and possibly have protecting Archie from excitable teenage girls in his job description? Not that anyone asked, of course.

“Gee, Cook, you didn’t have to come get me yourself!”

“What, when I begged you on my knees to come out here to see me?” Cook's looking kind of tired, actually. There are lines on his face under the stubble that Archie doesn’t remember from a couple of weeks ago, and the healthy tan on his skin he'd gotten from the Manila sun seems to have faded, and he looks pale enough to blend into the walls. “C’mere,” he says, and grabs Archie in a fierce one-armed hug. 

Robin rolls his eyes; he'd been with them in Manila and he's used to Cook’s handsy ways.

Arch hugs back, and, really, it’s silly he’s so excited to see Cook, because he just spent a whole week with him last month, it’s not like they haven’t seen each other in like a year or something. Although, um, it kind of feels like it's been a year. Or something.

He’s of course hoping Cook won’t ask him how come he'd happened to be surfing the ‘net last night looking for stuff on Cook’s tour performances, because that’s something he’s actually been doing, every night since Manila. He's not sure if Cook will understand; he guesses it could come off a bit creepy or something, as if Archie is some crazy teenage fan (come to think of it, though, of course, Archie is actually kind of a teenage fan for Cook, because, Cook's album? All kinds of awesome).

So of course, once they’re done with the airport admin things and are tucked away in the back seat of Cook’s limo, Robin in the front with Cook’s driver, and they're on their way to some nice restaurant for lunch downtown, this is _exactly_ what Cook asks him. “Hey, how did you read about my little concert mishap, anyway? You checking up on me, Archuleta?”

Arch figures that he should have been more prepared for this question, especially since he’d anticipated it, but he's so not; so he stammers something, he’s not sure what exactly, then stammers something else, and after a while Cook takes off his shades and fixes him with that trademark intense Cook stare, and --

\-- “Gosh, you look _terrible_ ,” says Archie, before he can stop himself, but really, Cook does look pretty terrible. Red-rimmed eyes, everything.

Cook stares at him for a beat, and then throws back his head and bursts out laughing.

“Oh my gosh, I so did not say that!” says Archie, but Cook puts his arm around Arch’s neck and pulls him in close in a one-armed headlock, still laughing. “Honestly, Archuleta, you are such a charmer.”

Archie uses the enforced close-up to inspect the rest of Cook’s face, and isn’t particularly happy with what he sees. “Cook, I'm not just messing with you. I think you’re, you know, pushing yourself too hard or something. Just look at you,” he says, and pokes him in the arm a little.

Cook looks down at him in a strange sidelong way, with his tired eyes kind of all scrunchy, and then looks away and lets him go, running a hand through his hair, which looks like it’s gotten even more gold from the tropical sun.   
“So,” he says, finally, “it's cool that you came out to see me because I asked, because you were worried about me. I, I really appreciate it, y'know.”

Archie smiles a little uncertainly because he can’t tell if Cook is making fun at first, but then Cook takes his hand and squeezes it, and then Cook turns to stare out of the car window with the wry face that he makes when he’s trying not to cry, and Arch doesn’t know what to do, so he squeezes back as hard as he can. 

Finally, Cook turns back to him with too-bright eyes and that crooked half-smile that he knows and loves so much. “I mean it, Archie. Thanks for coming. You always get me on my feet again.”

“Um, no problem?” says Archie, and Cook doesn't let go this time, and they ride the rest of the way to their lunch venue hand in hand.  
  



	4. Carry Me Down

So, his best friend actually put his life on hold to come out and see him, because he was worried about him.  


Cook isn't sure what that might mean, doesn't really want to think about it, or to really think about anything at all, beyond the way Archie's fingers curl loosely around his, the way his familiar smile lights up the restaurant and makes the meal taste like an entire lavish banquet for the gods. Cook lets Archie's voice (giving him the run-down about his new album and what he'd been up to since they'd last seen each other) wash over him like a blissful wave, and for the first time since he'd left Manila, he doesn't hear the white noise inside his head, and feels utterly at peace.

And when Archie tells him he's here for a couple of days and really wants to watch Cook's show, there is this sudden clenching in Cook's chest, in the small place into which he thinks he's managed to corrall his love of David Archuleta, and subconsciously he presses the heel of his fist to his heart to stop it from crashing out of his body.

Of course, all he manages to tell Archie, without bursting into tears again, is, "Awesome." But he takes Archuleta's hand over the lunch table, and miraculously, Archie squeezes back. 

After lunch they check Archie into an adjoining hotel suite on the floor that’s been cordoned off for the band. Archie gives Robin the day off, and Robin tries but fails to pretend that he’s not thrilled, because he’s kind of had enough of Cook and Archie holding hands throughout lunch, and the thought of having to shepherd the two of them through the shopping arcades of some Ohio suburb was so not appealing. 

Instead of going shopping, though, they spend the afternoon hanging out with the guys in the band, who welcome Archie’s unexpected arrival into their midst as if _they_ hadn't seen him for a year, as well -- Andy tackles him to the ground, and Archie puts his head on Kyle's shoulder, and noodles on Joey’s guitar, and Cook can't stop smiling and smiling like a sap. 

As the afternoon progresses, Neal starts to look at Cook warily, and Cook is aware that at this time yesterday (and, to be totally honest, for many days prior to yesterday) he’d been concentrating on getting tanked up for their evening performance. Cook is of course also acutely aware of the stash of alcohol, et cetera, in the hotel fridge, but there is no way in holy hell he's doing anything in front of Archuleta, who may be legal for some purposes (which is kind of dangerous territory here for Cook, he’d best steer clear) but not for others, alcoholic or otherwise.

In any case, Cook realises with no surprise at all that he feels no desire in the least to get tanked up, because he's kind of high on Archuleta, in that giddy, gravity-less way he was, they both were, together on that concert stage in Manila, so far away from where they are now.

After a light dinner and a couple of beers (okay, he's not completely lost himself in the kid), it's showtime.

And, finally, the white hot connection is there tonight, and he's fully and utterly _himself_ , high and flying clear, and the crowd is totally on fire, their energy crashing over him in pulsing waves of light, shaking him through his very bones, and they crash through "Declaration", and "Heroes", and his new set piece "Hot For Teacher", and he makes it through "Bar-Ba-Sol" without decapitating himself on Neal's mic stand, which is huge win. 

And, and he hasn't managed to make himself play "A Daily AntheM" since Manila, but tonight, he does, although he only gives the band, like, less than ten seconds' notice of his intentions. The crowd sings with him, sings his song at the top of their lungs, and he actually starts crying on stage, like he hasn't cried since Ryan called his name on national television a lifetime or so ago -- the tears rolling ceaselessly down his face as he sings, but his voice is clear and ringing despite the tears or because of them, he isn't sure which. 

When they reach the final chorus, he automatically looks to the left, because that's what he did the last time he sang this, on a huge stage in the strange and sweltering heat, and Archie is there, in his civilian gear, red checked shirt and jeans. Although he's standing in the shadows to the side of the stage, off Neal's spotlight, where he's been standing all night (and danced like a little fiend during "Heroes"), Cook can see that Archie is crying too, _Archie_ , who almost never cries, one hand pressed over his mouth.  
  
And Cook says into the mic, before he can stop himself, "You guys, give it up for David Archuleta!"

He sees Archie's wet eyes go wide in the dark, and catch Andy and Neal exchange an _Oh, great, what the fuck is he doing_ now _?_ look, but his band is nothing but consummately professional. Someone hands Archie a wireless mic, and there is absolute pandemonium when Archuleta takes to the stage.

Archie starts waving to the crowd and manages to get them to stop shrieking and start to sing again, and he himself is singing those amazing runs in the final anthemic chant like he’d done the last time, and is sharing Cook's spotlight, and Cook really should stop crying now.  
  
Archie is standing so close that Cook is breathing in Archie’s entire atmosphere, inhaling the warmth of his body, and he closes his eyes and puts his free arm around his friend, and just stops for that one moment, with the crowd all singing along, letting the moment crash down, down over them both.

Then the lights finally dim to signal the end of the set, and they’re walking offstage together, in an echo of that night so many weeks ago, and just like that night, Cook stops in the wings and wraps his arms around Archie and presses his lips to the top of his friend’s dark head, and then, gently, against his mouth, and tastes the salt of both their tears.   
  
And in the gathering rush, Archie’s kissing him back, gently and full of love.

Cook’s fighting not to deepen the kiss, and to take this all the way down, because the crowd outside is screaming his name, and he needs to go back out there to do this one encore, and because, because he needs to be sure that Archie is entirely on board with everything and isn’t just going along with it just because he trusts his best friend, and so, he breaks the kiss and breathes, into Archie’s hair, “Come with me?”

Which is how he ends up walking back onstage, into the deafening cheers, holding Archuleta by the hand. He leaves Archie standing on the right of the stage, between his lead spot and the floor-standing amplifier, picks up his guitar and slings it around his body, and tells the crowd, “Thank you guys so much.”

He glances across the stage at his bandmates, who are riding out the screaming and patiently waiting for him to give them the cue for the encore, because they’ve all come to the conclusion that he’s finally gone completely insane tonight, thanks to Archuleta, and they have no idea what he’s going to do next.

Cook raises his hand, and the crowd goes utterly quiet.

In the silence, Cook looks over at Archie, whose eyes are shining in the darkness, and says, “ _I think it’s time for a love song_ ,” and strums the first few chords to "Avalanche", and then he’s singing the opening verse, his voice hushed and husky with restraint:

_“I feel alive beside you, and all at once I am whole again_  
_We fall into each other, your atmosphere is all I'm breathing in_  
_And in this rush, we are crushed…”_  


And the guys are swept along with him, and they throw down with everything they have, and they all crash into the chorus:   


__"Carry me down, rolling in your arms/Cause I can't remember ever falling this hard__  
_Tell me tonight, all that we have been/Was it nothing more than noise inside my head_  
_Crashing down, crashing down/In your avalanche_  
  
Somewhere in the second verse, he steals another look at Archie’s face and is nearly undone, swept up in the emotion of the song, and of wanting this for longer than he’s ever known or admitted to himself.

And then, the third chorus: when the instruments suddenly still, and there’s nothing in the world, except the sound of his voice, aching and stripped bare in the hush. 

_Carry me down_ , he sings, simply, to his best friend, his love, _rolling in your arms;_ and then, the rawness curling hard and fast in his voice, _Cause I can’t remember ever falling this hard…_

Then the drums, and the band, smash headlong into the song on _Tell me tonight_ , and for some reason, David’s gazing at him, his eyes full of love.  
  
After an eternity, Cook sings, finally, _I feel alive beside you, and all at once I am whole again,_ and holds the note long enough to wave goodnight to the crowd.

When he steps out of his spot, unslinging his guitar from around his body, Archie’s right there, looking younger than his eighteen years, like the kid whom he’d first met in Idol’s Hollywood week, achingly young and somehow infinitely wiser and more beautiful now in this light than he’d ever been. Cook is amazed and humbled at how the more the both of them had changed, the more they seemed to be still the same. 

Amazed and humbled, at how their shared journey has led them to this stage, this place, to this final, dizzying edge. 

And then he's falling and David’s arms are there to carry him away.


	5. If Anyone Can Make Me Fall In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Some truths are said, and there's a conversation about what Cook can, and can't, do._

  
They’re both totally silent in the car on the way back to the hotel. Cook wraps his arms around Archie, his face pressed against Archie's neck, and Archuleta doesn’t let him go, saying to Neal and Andy and everyone else, _“It’s okay, I’ll take care of him, we’re good_ ”, as if he’s suddenly turned into this cool and competent individual just because he has Cook in his arms, and security is clearing a path for them to the limo. And then they’re blessedly alone, riding towards the hotel in the cool, calm night.   
  
Archuleta isn't sure if he’s really processed anything that happened this afternoon, or this evening. Belatedly, he wonders whether he left his brain on the airplane coming here, because he isn't sure there was much actual thought going on in his head during the hand-holding, and the unbelievable concert, Cook was really on fire, did he really think his, what, connection with the universe was broken? Because it was clearly so _not_ , he was one with the audience tonight, and then, there had been the kissing, and Cook singing "Avalanche" to him, as if he was the one Cook had been dreaming of, all his life.  
  
And finally Cook had collapsed into his arms and shut his eyes, and apart from the insistent clench of his embrace was otherwise totally uncommunicative, and since Archie doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t say anything.  
  
Archie holds it together in order to help Cook to his feet again and manhandle him out of the car past the bright lights of the hotel, and thank goodness Cook’s security guys manage to keep the photographers away and shepherd them safely into Cook’s room. Then they’re left alone again, and he steers Cook over to the bed and sits beside him, figuring he’d better try to get Cook to talk to him, because Cook _not_ talking is starting to scare him a little.  
  
“Hey, we’ve taken you back to the hotel.”   
  
Gently, he pushes Cook’s messy, glorious hair back from his face, touches his cheek tentatively. “C’mon, you need to look at me. Are, are you okay?”  
  
Cook finally opens his eyes, bracing himself against Archie’s shoulders. His face is beyond tired, his eyes bloodshot from the crying, and it's the most beautiful thing Archie’s ever seen.  
  
“Jesus God,” he says, and then, “I am so sorry, babe.”  
  
Archie thinks of a million responses to this, and settles, a little nervously, on, “Um. For what?”  
  
Cook looks down for a long moment, as if gathering himself, and then fixes his deepest eyes on Archuleta’s. His mouth crooks tiredly, and he says, “I wasn’t sure how I was going to tell my best friend I’d fallen in love with him, so I guess I pretty much decided to fling myself into his arms instead.”  
  
Archie’s brain says, … _Best friend_ …? … _In love with_ …? His mouth says, weakly, “Huh. I, I don’t know what to say about that…?”  
  
Cook is quiet for a little while, his eyes so deep Archie could sail or drown in them. “I’m not sure, myself,” he responds, at last, carefully. “I guess, I’d like you to think about what I said. About my being in love with you. And, you know, after you've thought about it, it might be good at some stage to think about how you feel about me. And to _tell_ me how you feel, if you want to."   
  
Archie holds Cook's gaze, although he's flushed to the roots of his hair and kind of wants to look away. "You're, you're in love with me?" he murmurs, trying the thought on for size, because, huh, hand-holding, and kissing, and then hugging and the not letting go, he supposes all that generally goes with being in love, and well. He can be pretty dense sometimes.  
  
Cook smiles his crooked half-smile, and huffs out a sigh. His hands, resting on Archie's shoulders, gently begin to finger the line of Archie's collar. "David Archuleta, it seems I've been in love with you for quite a while."  
  
"Um," says Archie, and Cook's touch is shockingly intimate, and he's not sure if the feeling in his stomach is some mistake, and so he says, his voice shaking a little, "…Are you really sure about this?"  
  
"Jesus, Archuleta, playing hard to get much?" But Cook’s grinning widely, now, his eyes crinkling around the edges, and his calloused fingers start tracing the back of Archie's neck. "Look. If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be trying to take this slow, to make sure you're okay with this. Here I am, wanting to kiss you, but I'm trying to be all gentlemanly about it and not rush you into anything you don’t want or aren’t ready for."  
  
Cook's fingers are kind of making it difficult to concentrate. Archie tries to think, and it comes out as, "... _You want to_ kiss _me_...?" And then adds, cautiously, "...Because, you can?"  
  
"Really," said Cook, leaning forward, his forehead touching Archuleta's, so close Archie can see his pale eyelashes and the curve of his mouth beyond. "I _can_?"  
  
" _Yes_?" says Archie, a little less cautiously, because Cook has cupped his hands around the back of his neck, and he thinks he might in fact grab Cook himself if Cook doesn't do something soon, to save him from himself, of course.  
  
Cook leans in, and whispers, " _You know, good things come to those who wait_." And, thank God, finally kissing him, sweet and slow, his tongue sliding gently into Archie's mouth, tasting like nothing except his pure self.  
  
Archie makes a small sound when finally Cook pulls back, and settles somewhat breathlessly an arm's length away, his hands sliding back to Archie's shoulders. Archuleta isn't sure where to put his own hands, which have clenched at his sides from the awesomeness of Cook's kiss.  
  
"Right," says Cook, quietly, "So, now, David, your turn. Do you want to kiss me back? _You can_ , too."  
  
Arch pretends to considers this, trying to control his breathing and the wild beating of his heart. "Let's see," he says. "Well. Since you asked me, I guess maybe I should try to follow," and then he puts his arms around Cook, pulls him closer, and gives him his kiss.  
  
Cook's breathing unevenly when it's Arch's turn to pull away. "You've got some moves, Archuleta," he manages, finally.  
  
"Yeah, I know," says Archie innocently, and Cook bursts out laughing and tackles him to the bed, and they're kissing again, even more deeply than before, and Arch doesn't want this night to ever end.  
  
"So, David," says Cook, eventually, when they come up for air, "I'm not sure I got an answer out of you. I mean, apart from to whether I could kiss you or not, which was a great answer, by the way."  
  
"An answer to what?" Archie murmurs, somewhat distractedly, because Cook's hands are wandering below his beltline, and it feels incredible. Everything about being in Cook's arms is incredible: no one's ever done this to him, except and only David Cook.  
  
Cook's hands stop abruptly, and Archie can't help but make a little groan of disappointment. "Sorry, babe," Cook breathes, "I kind of need your full attention here. I mean," he adds hastily, "the full attention of your _brain_. The answer to this: are things going too fast? Because, if we're going to stop, we kind of need to stop now, because otherwise pretty soon I’m not going to be able to."  
  
Indignantly, Archie struggles into a sitting position. "My brain is _so_ still working, Cook, and we don't need to stop," he says. "Apart from the fact that I might explode if we do? Is that you really don't need to worry about me." He looks into the eyes of his best friend, who's so suddenly, so awesomely, discovered he loves him, loves David Archuleta. "I want this. I want _you_."   
  
Cook's eyes redden again, and he rubs his calloused hand along the side of David's neck, very gently. "Okay," he says, finally, unsteadily, "Then, be prepared for amazing, Archuleta. If you're sure it's me you want. Because this is where it all begins, and I’ll make sure it’s never going to end."  
  
“I’m sure. It's you, and no one else,” says Archie, and he knows that nothing in this entire universe would save him from falling in love with David Cook.   
  
  



End file.
